


do it all once more

by anicula



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 19:57:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18059045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anicula/pseuds/anicula
Summary: “You broke into her room?” Jacob’s surprise was palpable in the tiny kitchen of his apartment.“I mean, he was very muddled through it all Jakey,” Queenie said, with her brows furrowed.





	do it all once more

“What - are you  _bleeding out_ on my bedroom floor Mr. Scamander?” Tina’s face was a careful balance of incredulous and hysterical. 

Newt shifted awkwardly in his spot. He was slumped over in an ungainly pile next to the low window that peered into Tina’s room. “Well - I - I don’t think so. This,” he gestured towards his side, “is really not as bad as it seems. I just - uh - found it a bit difficult walking to the door.”

“A bit difficult,” Tina said, her lips white and the words so very quiet in the dark of the night. She gripped the side of her dresser with both hands and Newt would’ve feared some repercussions if he wasn’t completely sure that the dresser was too heavy for her to lift up. Without magic anyways. He sneaked a glance to check that her wand was still in its holster. 

He cleared his throat, “Just a smidge,” and tried for his best smile. 

“How - how in the world did you get hurt?” Tina walked over to him and knelt next to him. “Should you even be moved?” Her eyes were wholly absorbed by the sluggish dark red still leaking through what once had been a white shirt. 

“Just a little - very small, quite insignificant really-”

“Mr. Scamander.”

Newt wrinkled his nose. 

Tina’s mouth flattened. 

“Some particularly overzealous carousers.” He blinked slowly and kept his eyes trained on her face. It was what honest people did. Or at least that was what that one muggle book had said. 

“Mr. Scamander.” Her voice was low, silkier than the other times and Newt started considering pushing for her to use his given name once more - there was something so dreadfully bureaucratic about  _Mr. Scamander_. 

Her sharp poke in his arm roused him from his thoughts. “If you don’t tell me what happened, I’m apparating us to St. Mungo’s right now Mr. Scamander, so I would answer me quite quickly.

Newt sighed. “Perhaps the carousers were also in possession of some paraphernalia that denoted their loyalty to a recently dismantled political faction.”

“Grindelwald’s followers attacked you?” Tina’s question was just as sharp as Newt anticipated. “We’re going to St. Mungo’s right now,” she grounded out through gritted teeth. 

Newt sighed again.

 

“You broke into her room?” Jacob’s surprise was palpable in the tiny kitchen of his apartment.

“I mean, he was very muddled through it all Jakey,” Queenie said, with her brows furrowed, no doubt skimming the memories running through Newt’s mind. “But you’re fine now, right honey?”

“Yes,” was the crisp reply sweeping through the doorway, not even pausing to take off her trench. Tina made her way over to the settee and dropped a paper bag on Newt’s lap. “Your medicine. Twice a day after food.” And like the wind, she was sweeping right back out.

“Don’t worry Newt, that’s just how she gets,” Queenie offered before he voiced any thoughts on the matter. “She hates when people get hurt, especially if it’s people she lo-,” Queenie cut herself off and cleared her throat, “well you know, people,” she finished with an elegant shrug of her shoulder. She turned back to the steaming pot, leaving Newt to face Jacob’s bewildered expression alone.

 

The stars were bright out when Newt peered through the doors to the balcony. He knocked on the wooden panels of the doors tentatively, only slipping through after Tina met his eyes and dipped her head in a slight nod.

“Nightcap?” He held up the bottle in his hand, two glasses dangling quite precariously in his other hand. 

Tina straightened and cleared her throat. “Sure,” her voice was low and a bit rough.

Newt felt a twinge in his chest, a small cramping that he tried to ease by pouring them both drinks. 

The clink of their glasses was a clear sound breaking through the buzz of the cicadas.

“Cheers.”

Tina downed her drink in one swift motion, sliding her glass back on to the side table while Newt was still too busy looking at her, an apology on the tip of his tongue and glass hanging in midair.

“More?” Newt held the bottle up, having put his full glass down in favour of serving Tina. 

Tina shook her head. “Actually I’m feeling a bit peaky, might turn in now.” The smile on her face was more grimace than smile and the twisting in Newt’s chest tightened. By the time Newt could fold his tongue around the words Tina was at the door. 

“I’m sorry.”

She paused. Her hand over the handle, a scant inch of air in between. “Whatever for?” she replied, facing the door and leaving Newt to decipher the small tilt of her head from the back alone.

“Everything.” His hands spread helplessly.

“Everything?” The smile in her voice settled him down like the crease between her brows the whole day had not. 

“Your lovely white carpet,” he offered. “Taking up your whole night - and day,” he continued at the softening of her rigid stance. “Making you worry,” he finished quietly when she finally turned to look at him. The smile that graced her face this time was fond - or at least what he’d started to recognize as fond, all liquid eyes and warm creases around her mouth.

She sighed this time, a puff of air into the crisp night. “I will always worry Mr. Scamander, that’s just the nature of things.”

“I had rather thought we were beyond that,” Newt said, hands folded over his reclaimed glass.

“Beyond what?” Tina looked askance at him.

“Mr. Scamander,” he sounded the syllables out with a twist of his mouth. The quiet huff of mirth escaping Tina had him tracing all the lines of her dear face in the moonlight. “Queenie calls me Newt,” he continued pseudo-mulishly, keen to see her smile stay. 

“Queenie does a lot of things I do not do,” was her reply, defensive if not for the crinkling around her eyes, a small tell but so very easy to tell for the observant eye. And Newt prided himself on being very observant indeed.

However, he nodded in deference to her superior expertise and offered her his full glass instead, wanting her to stay - wanting to see if her earlier condition was only a matter of his own awfulness instead of a physiological symptom. Tina looked at his offer and bit her lip. Her eyes were apologetic when she looked back to him. He conceded with a small dip of his head and a smile to the ground. Physiological then. 

“I’ll see you at breakfast?” her question a peace offering in the suddenly tense night.

“Yes,” Newt nodded, taking the olive branch for what it was. 

“Alright then,” Tina turned back to the door. “Goodnight,” she paused, “Newt.”

He jerked his head up in time to see the fluttering of her skirt, the rest of her already through the doors. 

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this: 
> 
> “Is there a particular reason that you’re bleeding out on my bedroom floor?”  
> “Well its a little too cold to be bleeding out outside.”
> 
> And only read the words "bleeding out on my bedroom floor" and This Happened.


End file.
